In Every World There Is You and Me
by Gerec
Summary: Post X-3: Erik Lensherr, powerless and without a purpose, finds himself mysteriously transported to Genosha, a utopian sanctuary for mutants. He meets his double Magneto who rules the island nation as King alongside his Royal Consort Professor Charles Xavier - the man Erik has loved and lost. This is a story about 'what might have been'.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:**__ This is written for a prompt on the meme that asked for more old Cherik in a 'House of M' type universe. There are 2 chapters planned and the second should be up within a couple of days._

_This is dedicated to the lovely** tuila** who has been so wonderfully supportive and loves old Cherik as much as I do._

* * *

He wakes up on a sandy beach, face pressed against tiny grains of powdery white sand. The sounds that surround him from all sides are foreign; not the blaring of horns or the incessant hum of the big city, rather the roar of the ocean and the buzzing quiet that denotes the pervasive presence of nature.

It takes him some time to gather enough strength, even the little that's needed to roll himself onto his back. His bones and his muscles; everything about his tired body aches and for once he doesn't have the energy to pretend.

He's old.

Perhaps in this long, lonely life he's led, all the battles he's fought – maybe his body is finally telling him it's time to let it go.

When he's finally able to push himself up he almost chuckles at the scenery around him; it's strangely like an every man's paradise, though to Erik it's more akin to his personal version of hell. Is he dreaming? Is he awake? He finds himself uncharacteristically apathetic; what does it matter when he's aimless and powerless? A man with no purpose and no heart?

The sun is beating down relentlessly, air humid and hot; gentle waves lap against the shore. There are palm trees and white sand and clear blue sky...and he has to force his mind not to supply images of the wreckage, the smell of metal and fuel; the missiles in the air. To remember it's not _that _beach, not _that_ day.

His hand reaches absently to rub at the phantom ache in his chest; there's a hole there, a piece of him missing since Charles...no it's too painful, too raw still to finish the thought. The man is _dead_, Erik thinks viciously, why bother dwelling on him now? Craving him? Still pining for that naive, arrogant fool of a telepath some fifty years after their first auspicious meeting?

"_Stop being so maudlin Erik," _Charles says oh so helpfully with his perfect manners and crisp accent, his own traitorous mind supplying that smug, infuriating tone. "_There's no shame in admitti__ng that you needed someone, that you needed _me _in your life_."

"I did need you Charles," he answers the wind, the waves, the open sea. "Where the hell are you now when I need you the most, you bastard?"

There's no reply of course; dead men don't answer the errant prayers of the old and weak. He wonders -what will he do with the time he has left on this forsaken planet? Now that his friend, his enemy, his ex-lover isn't around to challenge him? To thwart him?

To care about him?

"Magneto!"

He turns at the sound of his name, eyes narrowing at the two figures approaching him, obviously out on a lovers' stroll. Two people who should be just as dead as his Charles. Erik doesn't understand it; there's no hesitation, no fear and no anger when they see him, sprawled in the middle of nowhere in a cheap wool cap and jacket.

Scott Summers reaches an arm down to help Erik to his feet, clapping him cheerfully on the back like they're the best of friends. "What are you doing out here by yourself, Magneto? And dressed like that? Shouldn't you be busy with preparations for the state ball?"

If Erik still had his powers he would drop a piece of metal on the boy's head for his idiocy; there are so many things wrong with those sentences he doesn't even bother to respond. Instead, he arches an eyebrow at Jean Grey, whose presence he feels now in his mind, probing gently but thoroughly at his secrets. Face pale from shock she reaches a hand to grip his arm and then announces, quite urgently, "I think you'd better come with me."

Smart girl. He always did like that about her.

* * *

They stare at him with awe and uncertainty as they fill him in on the way back to the palace. The _Palace -_ his mind can't help but mock scornfully, thinking about all the tiny hotel rooms, safe houses and dilapidated warehouses he's stayed in during his lifetime. Erik had somehow been transported from San Francisco to the Island Nation of Genosha, a mutant-run sanctuary acknowledged as a sovereign state by the countries of the world and existing largely separate from human interference.

He finds himself reluctantly charmed as they wander through the bustling city, taking in the sights of the mutants all around him, living normal, peaceful lives in this beautiful utopia. His heart bursts with pride and wonder at this world; this world that doesn't – _can't_ - exist in the harsh reality of Erik's own time and place. He finds himself aching for Charles even more here than he did on the beach; what would his beloved Professor think about this magical place where both of their dreams have apparently come true?

There are curious glances from all the people they pass as he follows the young couple through the ornate marble halls. They finally stop in front of a massive set of metal doors, Erik taking a moment to admire the intricate engravings on either side of a stylized 'M', curled intimately around an equally impressive 'X'.

Jean stops him before he can push them open. "You need to prepare yourself for who you'll be meeting inside."

Erik just rolls his eyes at her and marches into the cavernous hall. It's obvious that this is the throne room; two large, elaborately detailed metal chairs decked out in plush red cushions sit side by side on the central dais. What's also obvious is that one of the thrones is currently occupied; by an imposing, silver haired man in a crisp black jacket and red pants, flowing magenta cape around his shoulders.

His own voice greets them, wry and cutting, "Is this some sort of joke, my dear? This pathetic wretch of a man cannot possibly be _me_."

_Oh_ – well this is a surprise, Erik thinks. He's more than a little gratified to see that he – this alternate universe (or is it dream? a hallucination?) version of him at least – appears to be running the show in this little mutant utopia. It's nice to know his grand plans worked _somewhere_, even if they hadn't worked where it mattered the most.

_When_ it mattered the most.

Jean shoots him an apologetic look before turning to address the man on the throne. "I've read his mind and...well obviously his memories aren't the same but he's most definitely you." She shrugs, a little bewildered and then places her hand on his arm again. "If you don't believe me you can ask..."

"No," Magneto interrupts – and it is definitely _Magneto_ and not Erik Lensherr who stands and descends from the throne towards them. "I will not ask and neither will you. I don't trust this man and his intentions and I will not expose him to my loved ones and risk putting them in danger."

It's interesting to be on the receiving end of his own unique brand of paranoia and hostility. He wonders what Charles would have thought of this surreal meeting. No doubt he would have babbled on with some scientific explanation about space time anomalies, being brilliant and yet distracting from the problem at hand. Or perhaps he would have taken them both to bed instead, a flesh and blood replay of their telepathy enhanced love making from much younger and more adventurous days. His Charles had always been a wonderfully contradictory and confusing man.

Jean flushes a lovely shade of pink and he can't help but grin at her discomfort. It amuses him that she's avoiding his eyes and he wonders if it's at the thought of her mentor's sex life or something else that's troubling her.

"He doesn't have the use of his powers anymore Magneto. He's not a danger to anyone here and certainly not to the Consort."

"Consort?" He arches an eyebrow at his doppelganger – and really that's too surreal an experience to fully comprehend – "You're married then? And that makes you what? The King?"

The Summers boy finally opens his mouth to contribute. "Magneto is His Majesty the King of Genosha and the General of her Military Force. He and the Royal Consort have ruled this nation together for the past 30 years."

"Enough, we're not here to give him a history lesson." The King steps into his personal space, no doubt in a misguided attempt to intimidate him. Erik almost wants to laugh out loud and remind the man the absurdity of trying to impress _himself_. "How did you lose your powers?"

His eyes dart over to Jean who looks distraught, her face white and hands shaking. "The humans invented a 'Cure' that stripped mutants of their power. I got injected with the serum." He marvels at his own detached tone, already feeling disconnected from those recent events. "I lead a war for our people and lost."

"And Charles? Did he arrive here with you?"

Erik catches Jean flinching out of the corner of his eye and huffs impatiently, "Do sit down my dear before you fall over." He levels a glare at Magneto and crosses his arms. "No he's not here. Charles Xavier is dead," he lifts his hand to wave off any comment, "And no I didn't kill him."

Summers looks so stunned at his words that it makes Erik want to tell him about the _other_ pertinent people who happen to be dead in his world. Magneto just appears confused, as if he can't comprehend why Erik would need to explain such an inconceivable thing.

Perhaps the King of Genosha had never parted ways with his own Professor all those years ago on a Cuban beach. Hadn't spent the last fifty years on the opposite side of the mutant/human conflict from the man he loved.

Didn't regret all the ways he'd hurt and betrayed Charles and let him down.

Magneto stares at him, gaze sharp and scrutinizing for a few moments before he turns to guide Jean to sit on one of the thrones. "Scott, secure him in the Guest Quarters and make sure he doesn't wander around outside the palace."

Summers takes the dismissal with grace, though he shoots a worried look at Jean before turning to Erik. "Come on, follow me. I'll show you to your room."

Just before they exit through the massive steel doors, Erik glances back at the two figures on the dais. The King has crouched down on one knee in front of Jean, stroking her hand gently as the girl tries desperately to calm herself.

It's a strangely affectionate gesture and a kindness he himself hasn't allowed in more years than he cares to remember. He shakes his head and can't help but wonder what other surprises Genosha will have in store for him.

* * *

He doesn't see the Charles Xavier of _this_ world until five days later.

They give him a spacious guest room that's easily the most opulent place he's ever stayed in, more grand and modern than the Xavier mansion in Westchester. He is given free rein to wander, though he was warned on the first day by Wolverine to remain on the Palace grounds. The man is as obnoxious here as he is in Erik's world and seems to enjoy his strange predicament a little too much - enough for him to wonder at the state of his relationship with Magneto.

He sees many former allies and foes in the ensuing days; most of his and Charles' respective teams are residents of the Palace. Along with Wolverine, Cyclops and Jean Grey, he comes into contact with many of Charles' X-Men – Storm, Kitty Pryde, Iceman and Colossus. There are also those of his old Brotherhood here; Riptide, Azazel and Angel are all here as well as the long departed Emma Frost.

They treat him with a muted curiosity, keen to share their stories of the building of Genosha and the current state of mutant/human relations. Erik listens to them all with mild interest, wanting only to know when he'll be able to see Charles again.

All of his questions about the Professor go unanswered.

He does not see Magneto during those five days, his other self obviously uninterested in Erik's presence in Genosha. More importantly he senses the other man's unease and distrust from the others – the most obvious being the ban on any information related to Charles being shared with the new arrival.

"Magneto is very protective of the Professor," Jean says to him over lunch on the second day, making Erik snort out loud at the blatantly obvious statement. "I'm afraid he's asked everyone to keep information about Charles...private. But the Prof. will be back in a few days and I'm fairly certain he'll want to see you right away."

"Is he well, Miss Grey? Is Charles happy?"

She looks at him with understanding and compassion, neither of which he wants or deserves. Erik glares until she blushes and looks away, only to feel her hand on his a few moments later.

"The Professor has everything he's ever wanted, Erik. He's very happy here."

* * *

Jean is the only steady presence during his stay; the others are too busy preparing for the Royal Consort's return from a diplomatic mission to the U.N. to spare more than a few minutes at a time for a lost old man. Information about Magneto's significant other is even more tightly guarded by the inner circle and it doesn't take any kind of genius to guess that Professor X and the Consort are one and the same.

Erik thinks he should be happy for his Genoshan counterpart; it would appear that he and Charles have somehow found a way to make things work in this idyllic other world. Instead, the thought that this possibility exists – _if only we'd done things differently_ – that he could have spent fifty years with Charles by his side burns a hole in his gut so painful it's almost impossible to breathe.

It doesn't help that everywhere he turns he is reminded of one Charles Francis Xavier. The Palace is filled by his presence, mere hints of his oversized personality but no less potent. The gardens are immaculate and well groomed, green and tranquil like the grounds of his Westchester estate. Children of all ages run through the halls, exuberant and full of life. The grand library with old antique furniture, the warm fire in the large study – everything and anything seems to call out to Erik, to remind him all the more of the man he has loved and lost.

* * *

Erik sees her on the evening of the fourth day.

Mystique is as beautiful as he remembers, her eyes sharp and knowing, her every movement suffused with a lethal grace. Here in Genosha she is still blue and proud and his heart clenches at the thought of the friend he abandoned in his own world, mutant no longer due to the Cure.

He can still see a little of the girl she used to be, though this Mystique differs remarkably from the one he left behind. They are both formidable no doubt, but the woman in front of him is alight with a fierce pride versus a seething anger. She eyes him critically for a few moments, before handing him a glass of scotch and dropping onto the couch across from him in the study.

"He'll be back tomorrow night."

She doesn't have to clarify and Erik doesn't have to ask; they both know who it is that Erik is waiting to see. It's the thing he misses most about her - that no nonsense attitude and forthrightness he's grown to rely on and trust after all those years fighting side by side.

"How much did Jean tell you about me?"

The look she gives him reveals no secrets. "Enough. She says the Charles Xavier in your world is dead. That she was the one who killed him. That you lost the war with humans and no longer have your powers."

Erik takes a sip of his drink, swirling the ice in his glass as he answers, "All true."

She pauses again, taking the time to make a decision it seems before she leans back against the cushions and pulls her feet onto the couch. "Ask me what you want to know."

He doesn't know where or how to begin so she decides for him, starting all the way back, fifty years ago on that fateful day in Cuba.

It unfolds in exactly the same way and Erik feels the guilt and the shame just as keenly now as he did then. He only half listens to Mystique as she relays the sequence of events until she gets to...

"You said 'We want the same thing.' And Charles told you that he did, but that your methods were very different."

"I...he said _what_?"

"And then you talked Azazel into teleporting all of us off the beach so we could get Charles to a hospital."

The light threatens to dim around him as he struggles to comprehend the words. Had it really been that simple? A whole life spent together instead of apart because Charles had answered him differently? And Erik hadn't abandoned him on the beach?

Mystique continues on as he sits silently, the rest of the story not quite as idyllic as he first assumed. Charles wasn't paralyzed that day but they still parted ways soon after and then spent twenty years fighting separately for mutant rights. They only came together again with the death of his daughter Wanda, a tragedy that Pietro still blames on Magneto. They co-founded the sanctuary of Genosha, and spent another fifteen as co-rulers before finally giving in to the wishes of their children and grandchildren and getting married.

He sits in a daze as she tells him about Pietro's role as Charles' protégé, accompanying the Professor and Genosha's official U.N. representative Hank McCoy to New York. His daughter Lorna is apparently married to Alex Summers and the two are currently travelling the world with their kids, recruiting mutants and acting as goodwill ambassadors.

She tells him about her own children, Rogue and Kurt and her on again, off again relationship with Azazel. About Sean Cassidy and Moira MacTaggart, who left the CIA a lifetime ago to become a geneticist and a doctor. They are a large, varied, loud and troublesome bunch, all bound together by their love for Genosha and the two men who lead them.

They're his and Charles' family.

When she leaves hours later, Erik is still reeling from the revelations.


	2. Chapter 2

There is nothing Erik could have done to adequately prepare himself for Charles' return.

The diplomatic envoy arrives home the next day to great fanfare and is immediately swept up in the festivities that culminate in the State Ball. The grand, marble ballroom is filled to the brim with mutants and humans, young and old, celebrating the return of their beloved leader.

Erik watches the proceedings from the back of the room, content to look on from afar as the Royal Couple greet their subjects. His heart bursts with unrestrained joy and great sorrow when he sees Charles finally (again!), standing elegant and tall beside Magneto.

They are dressed in matching outfits, Magneto in a black military dress uniform with a deep purple cape around his shoulders; the Professor in a less elaborate version with a sash over one shoulder and around the waist in the same color. Their combined presence draws the eye of everyone in the room, both men exuding power and grace effortlessly.

He envies the easy rapport between them, the way Magneto slips his arm lightly around Charles' waist and pulls him close. Sees the spark in the Professor's eyes as he gazes at the taller man, a look of love and devotion Erik hasn't seen in many long years from _his _Charles.

It makes him want to hit something. To pull every single scrap of metal in the Palace and collapse the walls around the happy, smiling crowd. Hurt them all for mocking him with their perfect, blessed existence when Erik has nothing to live for but heartache and failure.

He ignores the voice in his head as he exits the ballroom. The one telling him there is no one but himself to blame for his choices and their consequences. That regretting his decisions now won't make any difference at all.

Not surprisingly the voice sounds a lot like Charles Xavier's.

* * *

The garden is quiet, far enough away from the music and laughter to calm his racing heart. He sits by the large multi-tiered fountain, allowing the sound of running water and the bright stars in the night sky to sooth the beast within.

He touches the weathered stone, the fountain a replica of the one he remembers from Charles' estate. Traces long fingers over the metal plaque and the inscription it bears in his handwriting:

_The Founding of Genosha_

_October 23, 1984_

"_You're not alone."_

"Hello Erik."

He turns towards the voice speaking his name like a flower towards the sun, craving light where there is only darkness. The Professor and Magneto approach, arm in arm, the former with a warm and comforting smile and the latter with barely concealed disdain.

Saying hello is inadequate; Erik can hardly summon the words to describe what he feels at seeing Charles again, alive and whole. He's barely able to hold himself back from falling at the telepath's feet and hanging on; can only manage to croak out a single word, "Charles."

The look the Professor gives him is soft and fond, the words that follow in his mind a welcoming embrace. _"It's good to see you my friend."_

Magneto scowls and pulls the other man closer, causing Charles to let out a light chuckle. The telepath squeezes his spouse's hand gently and then shifts his gaze to Erik once more. "Perhaps you and I should speak privately?"

"No," the King does not appear to want his Consort anywhere near Erik. "He's a dangerous man, Charles. I don't want you spending any time with him by yourself."

The Professor arches an eyebrow at Magneto. "I'm quite certain he's not going to hurt me, darling."

Erik wants to jump in and argue that in fact, he has done exactly that; hurt Charles more times than he can count and in more ways than should be borne by the telepath. Instead, Magneto says it for him.

"He _paralyzed_ the Charles Xavier in his world! Put the welfare of countless others before him! He tried to use him to kill the humans and left him to die at Alkali Lake! And now his Professor is dead and he did nothing to save him! Do you really think I would trust your safety around a man like that?"

"He is _you_, my love," Charles places a hand on Magneto's cheek. "He is you who made different choices and have lived a different life. But he is still you and I have never felt in all the years we've known each other that you've ever wanted to hurt me deliberately. And you and I have had our own share of heartache and pain."

There is silence for a few minutes as Erik watches the two men have a telepathic argument. Finally, Magneto shakes his head and kisses Charles on the lips before letting out an exasperated sigh.

"You know I can never say no to you."

He turns towards Erik and stares for a moment before he continues, "I dislike you, and since you are essentially me you can well guess the reasons. I understand most of the choices you made from what Jean saw in your mind but...I cannot fathom choosing to live a life without Charles by my side. I would pity you if you were the kind of man who cared to be pitied."

"I did what I had to do, dedicating my life to the mutant cause. My break with Charles was painful but necessary. He didn't want to join me, to put our needs above those of the humans."

Magneto glances at the Professor before turning his stony gaze back to his counterpart. "You say that Charles Xavier put the needs of humans before mutants?"

"He protects those who would see us destroyed. Cares for them, wants to live alongside them even as they pass laws to subjugate us, to imprison and experiment on mutants. Charles' compassion has ever been _wasted_ on the undeserving."

Erik is surprised to see the King's face soften slightly, giving him an inscrutable look. "Yes, I remember feeling this way about Charles, a long time ago. I was too stubborn to listen and too foolish to consider anyone else's opinion but my own. I didn't realize there was another reality where I'd spend an entire lifetime being an arrogant prick."

He scoffs and waves his hand at the two men standing before him. "Mock me as you wish. I regret nothing."

It's not true of course, but he's hardly going to admit it out loud.

Magneto arches an eyebrow at him and snorts, his reply dripping with sarcasm. "Yes, I can see that. You are ever so righteous; a champion for our people." He takes a step closer and leans close enough to stare into Erik's eyes as he continues, "You underestimated _your_ Charles, never bothered to find a middle ground as I eventually did with mine. You mock his compassion, and yet it is the very thing that makes Charles Xavier the great man that he is and the reason he continued to care for _you_ when you have utterly betrayed him time and time again. You are a _fool_."

He turns his gaze on his Consort next though he is still speaking to Erik, "But that is your business and I don't care to discuss it further. I have been reviewing your situation with the others, trying to find a way to get you back to your own space and time but have been largely unsuccessful. Perhaps Charles can find something in your memories that will help us figure out what happened and how to reverse it."

He squeezes the Professor's arm and then turns abruptly, stalking off into the dark. Charles watches until Magneto disappears, then turns and closes the distance between himself and Erik. "Will you let me help you?"

Erik snorts and rubs tiredly at the scruffy beard on this face. "Didn't you hear what he said? Why would you want to help me when I've committed such terrible crimes? And after hearing the uncharitable things I said about you?"

The telepath does not answer right away, sitting next to him on the edge of the fountain before taking his hand. Erik knows this is not his Charles, not exactly, but can't help but feel reassured at the other man's touch.

"I will help you because you are Erik Lensherr and I am Charles Xavier. In every world, in any world - there is always 'you and me'. If my Erik had somehow found his way into your world before his passing, I know without a doubt your Charles would do the same for him."

The words, the sentiment...is suddenly too overwhelming and he has to look away, willing the tears from slipping as he takes a deep breath. "You're wrong. My Charles...he never loved me. He couldn't. How could he with the things I've done?"

A gentle hand rubs light circles on his back, soothing and warm. Erik thinks the Professor's kindness more than Magneto's hostility will rightly be his undoing. "Regardless of what you think...will you let me in your mind? Let me try to help you?"

He looks up at those beautiful blue eyes and finds them staring back at him with boundless patience and understanding. Charles smiles when he nods in agreement, a hand smoothing the frown from his forehead as the telepath slips like quicksilver into his mind. Dropping all of his shields he lets the other man in completely, throwing sealed doors and barred windows wide open for his view. It's the least he can do for Charles, to show his trust for the one he loves, belated though it may be.

It's a mere moment or an eternity – he's honestly can't say – before the telepath pulls back and cups Erik's cheek with his hand. His eyes are glistening and his voice thick with emotion. "Oh, my friend. What a lonely life you've lived. I'm so sorry, you and Charles..."

Erik pulls away sharply and pushes off the fountain; he has no interest and no use for the man' pity. "Don't," he snarls at the Professor who sits calm and poised, watching him pace. "Charles was my enemy much longer than he was my friend. I made my choice and so did he. We never...you only saw in my head an old man's foolish dream that should have died a long time ago."

"You don't understand Erik," the Professor stands and takes a couple of steps towards him. "You seem to be under the impression that your love is unrequited. I can tell you with absolute certainty that is not the case."

The telepath continues on before Erik can interrupt. "Your memories are the same as my Erik's up until the incident in Cuba. And from what I've seen of myself in those memories I believe it's the same. I can tell you that I fell in love with Erik Lensherr the moment I touched his mind off the coast of Miami and jumped in the water to save him." The Professor touches his arm and then takes Erik's hand. "And through fifty years of war and peace and heartbreak and joy I have never stopped loving him."

He stares at their hands, fingers entwined and tries to remember the last time he felt Charles' touch. Years...too many years since even their occasional trysts had ended, the betrayals and the pain too much to bear.

"I always thought it would be me, you know," he says in a voice quiet and small, "that I would die and Charles would live on and lead our people. I couldn't conceive of a world where I lived and Charles Xavier did not."

"I understand that sentiment perfectly."

He smiles and touches the telepath's cheek - gently, reverently, "I do have regrets, though they aren't many. My greatest one is that Charles died without knowing how much I loved him. I've never told him; never once said the words he deserved to hear."

The Professor doesn't answer, instead leading him over to one of the benches surrounding the fountain. They sit side by side, enjoying the peace and quiet for a long time before the telepath offers, "You are filled with so much pain and anger my friend, for things unsaid and roads not taken. I can't bring your Charles back or even help you get home just yet, but I can offer to listen. If you wish, you can unburden yourself with my blessing."

Erik turns to look at the Professor, wary of any mockery or judgement from the other man. He isn't surprised to see the sincerity that radiates from Charles, ever generous and forgiving and _eager _to help those who have never shown him the same consideration.

"Why are you doing this?" he shakes his head, chuckling in disbelief. "I'm not your Erik! I've done horrible things to the man I love, all in the name of the cause! And Charles fought me every step of the way! Our relationship was not the fairy tale happily ever after you seem to be living here with Magneto!"

The telepath continues to watch him, face neutral though his eyes are bright with emotion. "Things here weren't always as they are now, Erik. Our peace and our marriage both were hard fought and won. We'd spent twenty years on opposite sides of the conflict before Magneto finally got the war he_ thought_ he wanted. But we both ended up losing people we loved, including our darling Wanda who died saving me from a bomb her father planted. In the end, I had to use my powers to turn the tide of war...there's a lot of blood on my hands, my friend."

"My point," Charles continues, squeezing his hand, "is simple. You and my Erik are the same man and he is just as capable of doing all of the things that you have done. Your Charles and I are no different; given the right circumstances, if he'd been faced with the utter destruction of mutant kind...Erik, he would have joined you."

He lets the words linger, feels the weight of the revelations hanging in the air. The Professor _did _choose...and Magneto had told him he'd underestimated his Charles. Had compromise between their two philosophies always been possible? If they'd both given in just a little, could they have built their own version of paradise?

Though it hardly matters now, does it? No amount of awareness or regret would give him another chance with Charles.

Erik sighs and clutches tightly at the telepath's hand, his words soft and distant. "I should never have left that day, in Cuba, without checking the extent of Charles' injury. I wondered many times over the years if my leaving him stranded led to his paralysis; if he would have been able to walk if I'd simply taken him to a hospital right away." He absently wipes the tears from his face and shakes his head. "And now I know for sure – you're living proof that it _was_ my fault."

He's relieved that the telepath doesn't answer or try to excuse his actions, remaining a solid, comforting presence at this side as Erik's heart continues to break. "I want to believe he was telling me the truth when he said he didn't blame me. That it was an accident...but how could he? How could he forgive me for hurting him? And not just for the beach. How could he forgive me for choosing the cause over him? For being willing to sacrifice him to win the war?"

"You weren't the only one who made choices Erik. Your Charles made his choices too. Trust that he forgave you, or he wouldn't have said it. And trust that he loved you too because his actions spoke when he could not do so with words."

The Professor shifts off the bench to crouch in front of him, taking Erik's hands in his own. "You are lost, my friend. For the first time in your life you are without a goal, a purpose. You must try to find some peace Erik or all of this pain and regret will consume you."

It's the eyes, he thinks, as he loses himself in the blue orbs so full of light. How long has it been since Charles had gazed at him this way? Filled with so much fondness and love?

He thinks about the way Charles had looked in his arms, warm and sated in their bed at the mansion. Whispering of the days and years to come; their whole lives ahead of them after Cuba, after Shaw.

He thinks about the way Charles had looked in his arms, in shock and in pain, a bullet in his back. Denying Erik and turning away from a shared future.

He thinks about the way Charles had looked in his arms, the last time they made love, every kiss so exquisite and painful and every caress too much and never enough.

"You are my light," he whispers to the telepath, "ever the bright star out of my reach, Charles. All these years I had hoped...that someday, when the war was fought and won, that perhaps...I could finally come home to you."

Charles touches his cheek gently, wiping the tears away with his thumb. "Oh, my love."

"It has always been you, Charles," Erik presses a kiss to the palm of the other man's hand before pulling it over his heart. "I pushed harder, became more determined and ruthless. Did everything I could to make the world safe for you, for us. I ended up pushing you farther and farther away until you were no longer my anchor or my conscience. And now I don't have you at all. And nothing in the world has changed and none of the sacrifices we made mean a damn thing."

"What can I do to help you? If it's in my power to give it, I will."

He laughs through the tears, a wretched sound he doesn't care to hold back. "Tell me what to _do_. What am I supposed to do now with no powers and you, gone? Even if I somehow find my way back there's nothing for me there."

"Erik, everything you have done, whether I agreed with them or not, has been done out of love for mutants and a desire to protect them. You can still do those things without going to war." Charles pulls him to his feet, gripping his arms and holding him close. "Use your passion to guide the next generation, teach them how to live and how to survive. Give them the wisdom of your experience and let them learn from the mistakes you and Charles have made in your world."

This time his laugh is genuine and amused as he asks the telepath, "Should I head to the School and ask them for a job then? Maybe they'll let me have your old position as Headmaster?"

Charles' laugh reverberates through the quiet, open space of the garden and ripples like sunlight through his mind. He's seized by the urge to sweep the telepath into his arms and kiss him, hang on to this feeling and this moment for as long as he can.

He takes a step closer, wrapping his arms around Charles and smirks at the other man. The Professor arches an eyebrow at him but doesn't pull away, a slow smile forming as he places his hands on Erik's chest.

"_You do know that I'm a married man don't you Mr. Lensherr?"_

"_Oh yes," _he projects, probably a bit too loudly but the telepath doesn't seem to mind. "_I'm sure the King would have my head if he saw us like this."_

Charles chuckles and looks up at him through his ridiculous long lashes. "_Indeed. He's rather a jealous man, my Erik."_

"Hmmm, yes," he lets his eyes devour every inch of the man in his arms, memorizing everything from the crinkles around his eyes to the contours of his face. "Will you let me kiss you, Charles?"

_I didn't get a chance to kiss him before he died._

_I didn't get a chance to say good-bye._

Erik doesn't remember getting an answer, mouth drawn to the warmth of Charles' lips as he pulls the other man against him. It's Charles – Charles lying on the grass outside, Charles in the library, Charles sprawled naked on the bed.

He tastes like the first time they kissed, giddy with alcohol and laughter and good company.

He tastes like the last time they kissed, deep and desperate and filled with longing and hopelessness.

It's excruciating and exhilarating and Erik thinks maybe if he died right now it would be better than he deserved.

When he opens his eyes, Charles is gone and he's sitting in the park on a sunny day, a chess board and empty chair in front of him.

* * *

The days go by as they did before, Erik living a quiet existence in a one bedroom apartment in San Francisco. His journey to Genosha remains a mystery unsolved; he has no idea if he dreamed it or hallucinated it or if the trip had been real at all. Nothing remains of his time there – he returned looking exactly the same as he remembered, wearing the same jacket and wool cap.

The memories don't fade though with time; he thinks constantly of the world he visited and the life that could have been. Of Charles' words and the way he smiled at Erik...and thinking about the telepath hurts now in a whole different way.

Twice he picks up the phone to call the School and twice he hangs up before anyone answers.

Four weeks later, Storm and Wolverine show up at his door.

Erik only hesitates for a moment before he flings the door open and waves them in, the two X-Men looking unsure if they should sit or fight or run. He grins and offers them tea, then sits across from them in his armchair and waits.

"We have something for you Magneto." Storm is the one to speak, the Wolverine looking uncomfortable and ready to rip his head off.

"So you didn't come here to take me to the authorities?" He arches a brow at them and Logan growls.

"It'd be the least you deserve."

Erik nods and takes a sip of his tea. "No doubt. Though I had hoped you were coming to offer me a teaching position at the School. I think I'd be rather good at teaching German...and possibly History."

They both stare at him like he's gone crazy and Erik can't help but chuckle at their reactions. Storm just shakes her head slightly and hands him a letter. "This is from the Professor."

His hand trembles a little as he takes the envelope. "Charles wrote this...before he died?"

An indecipherable look passes between the two and Wolverine stares at him for a few moments before he answers, "Not exactly."

"He's...I think you better read the letter."

Erik can tell immediately that this is Charles' writing, his elegant script still unmistakeable after all these years. The story told on the pages is as fantastic and impossible as his trip to Genosha and he stares at the words for a long time in silence. Finally, he looks up and glares at the two X-Men on his couch. "Is this true? Is he really alive?"

"The Professor wanted us to deliver the letter and ask you to come and see him. You can come with us now or come on your own later. Or do you want us to tell him you said no?"

His smile turns into a chuckle and then into full blown laughter as he digests the news.

"I think I'll come now thanks." He makes his way to the door, grinning at the confused looks on their faces.

"Come along you two. I'm ready to go home."

END


End file.
